


the future's so bright i gotta wear shades

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alien Sex, F/F, Femslash February, Future, Hook-Up, Neck Kissing, Non-Explicit Sex, Time Travelling Lesbians, Trill Culture (Star Trek), Trills, Widowed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22596145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: While visiting the Trill homeworld 930 years in the future, Reno engages in some diplomatic relations with a Trill scientist.
Relationships: Jett Reno/Original Female Character
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	the future's so bright i gotta wear shades

With Stamets and Tilly geeking out over the brainiacs of the Trill Science Ministry, Reno ends up left alone to fuck off and explore the Trill homeworld. Which is just fine by her. She hardly knows anything about these people in the 23rd century, let alone whatever they’ve become in the 900-plus years since then. 

She’s wandering around the perimeter of the exobiology facility when she meets Leeza. Practically bumps into her, really. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Reno says, backing up. “I’m not looking where I’m going.” 

“Understandable,” the Trill woman says. “Everything here is new to you. There’s a lot to see.”

“How did you…?” Reno taps the side of her head. “Ahh, right. No spots.” 

“No spots,” the Trill woman confirms, grinning. “You came with those people from the _Discovery_ , right?” 

“Yep,” Reno confirms. “Jett Reno, engineer. I fix stuff.”

“I’m Leeza,” the Trill woman says. “I study stuff. Don’t do much fixing.” 

Reno looks her up and down, and then feels silly— as if she’d be able to tell, just by looking. “So… are you one of the ones with the other one inside you?”

Leeza laughs. “Are you asking if I’m a joined Trill?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I am,” Leeza says. “My symbiont has had… oh, 27 hosts now. I’m lucky 27.”

“Jesus,” Reno says, and whistles. “How do you keep track of them all?”

“It’s not easy,” Leeza admits, beginning to walk back around toward the rock garden at the center of the science compound. Reno falls in step beside her, intrigued by this alien woman with 27 lives. “You should have seen my  _ zhian’tara _ . It was like a carnival.” Off Reno’s questioning look, she explains, “The  _ zhian’tara _ is a ceremony where a Trill’s previous hosts all temporarily possess the bodies of trusted friends and colleagues. So that joined Trill can interact with all their former hosts, in a way.” 

“Sounds cringey,” Reno says. “I’d hate to meet the person I was 20 years ago, let alone hundreds of years ago.” 

“You couldn’t have been that bad,” Leeza says. 

“You’d be surprised,” Reno says. “I once snapped a man’s oboe in half.” 

“Is that a euphemism?”

Reno snorts. “I like you, Leeza,” she says, bumping the other woman’s shoulder with her own. 

* * *

They end up talking for way longer than Reno had anticipated, which is not bad. Not bad at all. Leeza scrounges up some Trill liquor, as well as plates of some kind of bright yellow salad with dried fruit on top. “This is delicious,” Reno comments, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth. It’s kind of like an apricot, but… Trillier. 

“Glad you like it,” Leeza says. “It was Kalil’s favorite.”

“Kalil? One of your past lives?” 

“One of my previous hosts,” Leeza says. “Calling them ‘past lives’ implies that I died and came back new. But that’s not exactly how it works… The symbiont lives on and on. The hosts live and die. Once the hosts die, they don’t return… well, except for the  _ zhian’tara _ .” 

Reno doesn’t know quite what to say to that so she turns her attention to her salad. That’s something that’s been kind of a relief, being here in the future— food is still food. Gravity is still gravity. All the constants she’s learned to build her life around are still there, even if the setting looks a little different. 

“Must be weird… remembering so many different bodies,” Reno says. “I feel like I barely know this one. Humans have this saying— ‘Oh, I know that place like the back of my hand.’ I couldn’t tell you shit about the back of my hand. I know I see it every day, but I’m usually looking at what my hands are doing, not how many freckles or scars I have.” 

Leeza sips her drink and tilts her head back, thinking. “It’s funny,” she says, “I find myself missing the weirdest things. Like, my last host was double-jointed. But I’m not. Oh,” she adds, “and I once had a host with  _ the _ finest ass.” She glances mournfully at her own ass— which, in Reno’s opinion, is pretty fucking stellar. “You know how tall people feel the need to smack the top of every doorway they walk through?”

“Shut the hell up, that’s a thing  _ here _ ?  _ Now _ ?”

“Cross-cultural, eternal phenomenon,” Leeza confirms. “Anyway. It’s really funny to watch recently joined Trill who remember being taller in their previous host try and fail to hit the top of doorways. Like, ‘oh darn I forgot I was short now.’” 

Reno cackles. She’s not usually one to delve into all the intricacies of alien cultures, but Leeza makes her want to know more. More about the Trill— more, really, about Leeza. They walk and talk, eventually coming to a place where erosion has worn down the large rocks into smooth surfaces, warmed by the sun. 

Leeza squats down and sits, stretching out her legs. Reno drops down beside her, careful not to jostle the remains of her lunch or spill her drink. 

“So,” Reno says, suddenly feeling weirdly self-conscious. “How does romance work in a place like Trill? Do you stay with someone from body to body?”

Leeza shakes her head. “It’s actually taboo in Trill culture to reassociate with the lover of a past host,” she explains. There’s something bitter to the words, some old pain. But she continues. “Some joined Trill fall in love with and marry people from other species, some marry other Trills. But basically— once that host dies, the relationship is over. Going back to them in a new host means risking exile.” 

“That’s fucked up,” Reno says eloquently. Then she deliberates— she wants to talk more, wants to unbury more about herself. That hardly ever happens so fast. “My wife passed away,” she says finally. “And… and if she could come back? I don’t care in what body, if she came back there’s not a damn thing that could stop me from being with her.” 

Leeza looks at her. Just looks at her. “There are Trill who would disagree with that sentiment.”

“Not you?”

Slowly, she shakes her head. “I’m over 1,000 years old, Jett,” Leeza points out, leaning back against the rock behind them. “But there are some losses that stick. Like plaque you can never scrape off.” 

Reno observes her, notes the sadness in her dark eyes, the exotic spots along her temple and jawline that disappear beneath the collar of her tunic. She imagines kissing each spot, moving lower and lower along the other woman’s body. “What was her name?” 

“She had many names,” Leeza says. “Many lives. But we only got to spend one of them together.”

"I didn't even get that much."

Leeza ducks her head guiltily. "Of course not. I'm sorry—"

"It's in the past," Reno says, and then smiles wryly. "Way, way in the past." As if any amount of time could make the ache go away. As if losing her wife hasn’t given her a whole new identity for the rest of her life,  _ widow _ , she’s a  _ widow _ now and forever. It brings to mind thoughts of tearful old women in shawls, dabbing their eyes with lace handkerchiefs. She brings the bottle of— well, the universal translator's been calling it sherry, but it doesn't taste quite like any sherry she's ever had— whatever it is, Reno brings it to her lips and takes a sip. "Hey, Leeza, you ever had sex with a time traveler before?"

"Yes," she says matter-of-factly.

"Oh." Reno wipes her mouth with the edge of her sleeve. "'Cause I was gonna say, if you've never had sex with a time traveler before, would you like to? But since you already have."

Leeza grins at her, almost wolfish. “Just because I’ve done it before doesn’t mean I never want to do it again,” she says, leaning closer to her. Reno can make out the minute differences between each spot, how each little mark has its own unique shape. Like so many fingerprints pressed into Leeza’s skin, all the way down. “My residence isn’t far from here.” 

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?” 

* * *

Leeza’s home is full of potted plants and framed artwork— not that Reno gets much of a look at any of it. She’s being led by the hand to Leeza’s bedroom, chasing after her to kiss along her jawline, her ear, the nape of her neck. 

They practically fall onto the bed, moving frantically to peel off Reno’s uniform and Leeza’s clothes. The mounting urgency in their kisses is like electricity, singing through Reno’s whole body as she follows Leeza’s spots with her mouth, peppering kisses along her neck and shoulders, her breasts, her stomach. 

“Hey,” she says, breathless, placing a hand gently over Leeza’s midriff. “What, um, what’s your worm’s name?”

Leeza laughs, throwing her head back against the pillows. “The symbiont?”

“Yeah, that,” Reno says. “Unless, unless you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay. I don’t know if it’s a private thing or whatever.” 

“It’s fine,” Leeza assures her, reaching up to cup Reno’s face in her hand. “The symbiont is called Dax. I’m Leeza Dax.” 

“Leeza Dax,” Reno murmurs, kissing Leeza’s stomach again. And then she moves lower, mouthing and nipping at the sensitive skin of Leeza’s inner thighs. 

* * *

It’s not that she had any qualms about making love to a joined Trill. An alien is an alien is an alien. You’re going to see biology and appendages and customs that seem weird to you no matter where you go, let alone how far in the future you might travel. Really, Reno isn’t worried about that. 

It’s more that she’s concerned about how much older Dax is than her. Reno isn’t used to being the less experienced one in bed. What if Leeza gets bored? What if the sex is disappointing? 

As it turns out, her worries are for nothing. As she pulls breathless sighs of encouragement and bliss out of Leeza, she finds herself thinking about the nature of the Trill— of life. Every instant is different from the previous one, no matter how many similarities they might share. 

Dax has lost people. Reno has lost people too. There’s no undoing or forgetting that. But here, in these instants when she is tangled in the sheets with Leeza Dax looking at her like she hung the twin moons in the sky, the new memories and experiences somehow take the sting out of the ones that came before. 

And as for her feelings of inexperience— sure, Dax has probably fucked a lot of people before. But she’s never fucked Jett Reno, and Reno’s going to try her damnedest to make an impression. 

After all— you only live once. 

**Author's Note:**

> Dax has been alive for 1,170 slutty, slutty years.


End file.
